


Who’s Going to Watch you Die?

by fairytails



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hospitals, Hurt No Comfort, Iwaizumi Hajime is Bad at Feelings, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Angst, M/M, One-sided Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, POV Iwaizumi Hajime, Pining Iwaizumi Hajime, kinda a songfic ig, oikawa is dying, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytails/pseuds/fairytails
Summary: Pretty much based on ‘What Sarah Said’ by Death Cab for Cutie.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 12





	Who’s Going to Watch you Die?

Head in his hands, the boy in the low chair adjacent the wide window and occupied bed glared at the scuffed linoleum floor, wishing he were literally anywhere but here. He steadied his breaths, drawing in the combined scents of piss and antiseptic, cursing himself for leaving his home without a dust mask at least. He’d been slightly preoccupied that morning however, so he forgave himself. 

Iwaizumi Hajime was a rational person. He had always been perceptive of when he was being stupid, and very capable of keeping emotional bullshit at bay while he dealt with things far more important. Yet with each slowing breath he took, he felt a pang of guilt, and a flash of anger at himself for feeling that way. The logical side of him knew damn well the amount of breaths he took in a day was something he couldn’t control. Yet a part of him still felt the urge to ration them, save some for the boy in the bed next to him who’s chest’s every rise and fall sent relief crashing over him. Coming back to himself, the soft beeps of the LCD opposite him filled his mind once more, filling his head with irrational thoughts, and he briefly considered smashing the shit out of it to make it stop. He couldn’t stand the sound, or the tiny peaks on the screen that seemed to mock him every time he looked. 

His eyes coursed over the room, but eventually settled where he knew they always would. Exactly where he was trying not to look. The boy looked, to put it kindly, like a fucking corpse. His skin was ghostly pale, something he would have absolutely detested if he were awake. He would have said that the white of the hospital gown washed him out, and asked for something in blue. Iwa could almost hear it. He would have threatened to hit him, but at least he’d be saying something. Anything was better than the void silence when his mouth was shut like this. His face was much thinner than it had been even a month ago, and his normally unruly brown hair lay flat across his forehead.   
Memories flashed through his mind of times where life had flowed through him so visibly, to the point he had made everyone he stood beside look somewhat lifeless. That life that drew Iwa to him in the first place. He’d rather die than say it out loud, but he had admired it so much. He could picture the first time he had seen him wind up for a serve, the power coursing through his body and the fiery determination in his eyes showing the world how truly alive he was. It was impossible not to watch in awe, Iwaizumi couldn’t take his eyes off him. And every damn time after that, he couldn’t possibly bring himself to look away. 

His face scrunched in annoyance, and he forced his eyes back to the tapping of his foot against the ground. Remembering that moment used to make him feel as if he could fly, as if anything and everything were possible if his friend and partner was at his side. Now, it reminded him how painfully grounded he was, and how much he wished he could forget.   
His nails dug into his palms, berating himself mentally. That wasn’t right. He knew that the light of Oikawa Tōru was one he would rather never feel again than never have stood under at all. For better or worse, he would never be without the traces his determined friend had left across his being. Immeasurably huge pieces of Iwaizumi were ones that Oikawa had created for him, replacing apathy with passion, doubt with a unrelenting desire to be the absolute best. Dreams of ruling the court with his friend at his side.

He loved him. Of course he did, he’d always known it, but hell if he was going to let anyone else know. He excelled at hiding his feelings, behind quick remarks and dumb names, he was sure not a soul could see through. He wasn’t quite sure what his plans were in terms of actually telling the object of these feelings, but he was damn certainly regretting waiting so long to figure it out. There were all these things rattling around inside his brain, and now he was pretty sure it would kill him if he never got the chance to speak them out loud. He’d never wished for a chance to be so open before. Usually he preferred being an impassive wall, invulnerable and untouchable. Truly, he never felt that anyone really needed or deserved to know these kinds of things. But, he supposed, love’s meant to change things. 

He remembered, Oikawa had asked him once, when they were younger, what he thought being in love meant. At the time, he hadn’t really given it much thought. Love was something that felt so far out of reach for him, shrouded by a thick cloud of youthful dismissiveness and blissful ignorance. He’d given some half assed answer, musing that it was probably something like wanting to be with someone all the time, and never getting tired of them. He was wrong of course. He got plenty tired of Oikawa, and loved him all the same.   
His friend’s answer stuck with him though. No matter how hard he tried nowadays, it repeated like a constant loop in his head, haunting him even as he slept.   
“I think love... it’s watching someone die. It’s like, finding someone you can trust to be there for you when you do kick it. It’d fucking suck to die alone.”  
Love is watching someone die.  
Who the fuck says that? His nails dug deeper into his palms the more he thought about it. What a goddamn selfish thing to say to him. How dare he make him this obligated to sit here in this soul sucking place for hours just waiting for his world to shatter apart. How dare he make him sit here and watch as life visibly drained from his body, not even able to get up and take a walk just in case he came back to an empty shell. How dare he leave him here in the first place. 

That’s not fucking love.  
Yet here he sat, bound by some nonverbal contract he had unwillingly signed that day, and wishing the goddamn television playing some vapid soap opera Oikawa would probably have been completely engrossed in would stop bringing up the word love. It all felt so pointless now anyway.  
If love was as he said it was, who the hell was gonna watch him die? He thought about it for a moment and the conclusion he came to was highly unsatisfactory, reaching the realization that the only person he’d ever let see him like that was currently on his deathbed. Of course he’d had to be first, he always had to be first at everything. 

It didn’t matter anyway. There was no use in getting angry now, he rationalized, calming himself. It certainly didn’t help anything. He turned his attention back to the blips of the LCD carrying his friend further and further away from him. He’d never felt more helpless than this moment. Getting angry wouldn’t help, yelling and punching and fighting wouldn’t do a damn thing, and yet neither would staying rational as there was no possible way to rationalize himself out of this. Iwa took a shuddering breath, releasing what he was unaware he had been holding, and returned his eyes to the figure they had fixed on so many times before. 

He wanted him to watch? He was watching. And he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this was cringe hahah, was it maybe therapeutic to kill oikawa? it’s possible. anyway i tried to take it seriously lol


End file.
